


Interviewed (Camren)

by CamilaCABYEHOE



Category: Fifth Harmony (Band)
Genre: F/F, Lesbian, camila Cabello - Freeform, gxg, lauren jauregui - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-26 15:59:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14405553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CamilaCABYEHOE/pseuds/CamilaCABYEHOE
Summary: So this will be released on my Wattpad (@Voicelessbutter) shortly after being released here. Slightly inspired by The Hunger Games





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this will be released on my Wattpad (@Voicelessbutter) shortly after being released here. Slightly inspired by The Hunger Games

I was anticipating the interview today.

Once every year, someone would visit the isolated terrain and ask me the general question of how I made do with my limited resources. Some claim me to be a witch, others take me as a genius. Personally, I think I've been driven so far mad, living here has no longer set itself up as a challenge.

The idea, to take some unaware airhead from her home and to deal with the hardships of life had excited everyone, me included. Only when they realized not a group, but just one girl would be attending, and that girl was the ripe age of twelve, had discourse began.

Which was why I was provided with treats others surely wouldn't get; much more food and water had been given to me in the simulation, and I still kept in contact with people.

When the interviewer came--Usually a short, balding male who was so happy they should be charged for a crime, would sit down and hit me with the standard questions I no longer found hard to answer. In exchange for a nice place to sleep and one of the best meals I could whip up on such short notice, they'd give me photos along with some updates on my family.

To say I was grateful would be an understatement, but I was still waiting, after four years, for my parents to fulfill their promise and come out here to visit. I'd saved all the finest things I could come by for them, something I never admitted to while asked of my family. If people knew I still clinged to some sort of hope all wasn't lost, I'd be seen as weak, an act I'd given up years ago.

"How are you feeling?"

After the riots and anger from all over the world, though my district in particular, the people who'd overseen this simulation had taken volunteers to come by and live with me. The lucky girl? Normani, my now best friend.

We didn't see each other much, but on holidays and during important events such as today, we made it our top priority to see the other. Normani had her family visit her now and again, and they welcomed me with open arms, so I'd quickly became their second daughter, in a sense. In past interviews I'd opened up about the fondness I felt for them, hoping it would show my undying gratitude and cause my parents to be jealous, the latter something I'd never given up hope on.

Except for this year. Normani and I had created a plan, one I had spent countless hours practicing though still couldn't seem to get down.

"The whole worlds going to see me," I replied, grabbing a the thin blanket I'd been searching for under a pile of leafs. One of the finest things I owned now. "How do I prepare for that?" I've been doing this for four years, her three, but we'd never been able to set aside our nerves long enough to calm down. Our numerous ways to cope with this included banter and keeping our minds busy; something we were forced to do all day.

Normani looked up from the water she was attempting to purify with our limited materials, beckoning me over to give my hand a reassuring squeeze, something I hadn't known I needed. "You've been crushing these interviews, girl! I saw you that first year, you were doing so well for yourself!"

I shrugged my shoulders, gently removing my hand from her soft grip. "I need to go hunting," I decided, not even taking the time to think about the words as I swung my pack of bows over my shoulder. In one of the numerous fires that'd occured while I first came here, my arrows had been destroyed, and I never bothered to waste my limited materials on creating on while I could easily throw the bows themselves and come up with quite a sum.

Though my mind wasn't on it today, and the moment I set foot outside of our makeshift tent, I realized just how dizzy I was as I nearly tripped over nothing.

The idea that this interview could get me killed never crossed my mind, but now it was all I could think of. If we did follow through and plotted out this whole stunt to attract my parents back, they could very well be angered with me. More than angered, enraged. With his bare hands, my father could easily kill me.

When I last saw my parents, it'd been for them to say their final goodbyes. The simulators had provided all five of us with the best meal of our lives. My sister, Taylor, was only a little kid back then but somehow picked up on the fact that this wasn't the time for jokes. She'd given me her favorite Barbie.

A week later, I'd gutted a chipmunk with the dolls incredibly sharp arms. Her image still haunted me, that eerily pleasant smile on her lips as the blood of an animal drenched over her, her perfect blonde hair instantly being dyed red. I had eaten what I could out of it, which wasn't much, and left the barbie on the ground, no longer being able to bare looking at it.

When Normani informed me that what I was going through almost always got televised, I decided to be more careful with the ways I handled gifts from others.

My father had given me a fork, something to symbolize his love for cooking. Surely someone could've predicted me using the sharp edges to kill something, maybe even eat if I cared enough to use table manners, but I'd sawed through it with my knife until it'd broken in half and threw it on the ground after the first update of my family. I'd realized that they were watching every pain I'd been put through without the slightest ounce of sympathy.

So, I'd played the crushed girl act. Cried myself to bed a few times, done outlandish things such as yell at my father knowing he wasn't there, and pretended to be driven insane. For a while, this worked, with gifts pouring in until they became too heavy to carry in my pack and not one of them appeared to have been from my family.

Chris didn't give me anything other than a bar of chocolate, which we'd shared and scarfed down before I said my final goodbye for what would be five years. 

My mother had provided me with her knowledge, which wasn't much other than a few hunting techniques. She'd also handed me an assortment of leafs, if I'd now known they could heal wounds I would have held on to them rather than throw it out my first night here, seeing it as extra weight I didn't need to carry.

Now, as I hunted the dusty ground I'd spent four years aimlessly wandering, I knew the importance of my items and wasn't so quick to judge. I held on to most things, usually the food was eaten within a few hours, but if it was something like crackers or cookies, I'd keep those for a few months. Clothes usually weren't sent to me but when they were I stripped of my old ones, covered in sweat and smelling repulsive, only to slip into my new undergarments.

Things other than that didn't really came by anymore. It cost too much money to send things here, and many people were discouraged after seeing how easily I let go of things, something I'd dumbly let the cameras pick up on after having my planned mental break down.

For about a year or so, rations have drastically fallen and Normani is almost sure our ratings are going down without much changing. Usually I wouldn't care so much about petty things such as popularity, but it seemed like a waste to go through all these struggles and not get the tiniest bit of attention in return. Clearing my throat, I made sure no animals were around before slumping against a tree.

Nothing seemed to ease my mind today, so without much thought I opened my pack to reveal the sleeve of cookies hidden under my small blanket. Silently, I nibbled on one, something that thankfully helped me relax. I would usually peck at my nails, the threat of eating all my food never being a challenge, but now my nails were little stubs, shadows of what they use to be, and it was impossible to bite them.

Generally, the interviewer advised me that this weekend was the one viewers tuned into the most, wanting to see how I prepared and busied myself during the most important day during my time here. Even for me, this was incredibly boring.

I frowned before shoving the cookies back into my pack and jumping up from the ground, jerking my bow out from where it'd laid in the mud. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught quick movement, something that surely offered a promising dinner, possibly lasting the two of us a few days if we watched what we ate and only took our fair share.

Cats had always proved hard to come by, so when I was able to catch one, it was bound to be some sort of sign. My usual cleverness and sharpness had been replaced with nothing more than anger, my bow sloppily landing into the fur of the cat. I knew it wasn't a good throw and that within a few hours the cat would be back on it's feet, so I approached it and stabbed it relentlessly with my bow before exhaling and grabbing it by the neck. 

This cat, I decided, would be for my family. If they didn't come, it'd be for me and only me. The cat was fat, meaty in a since, I tossed it in my hands, eyeing the now dead creature. Having literal blood on my hands had never bothered me while I lived in the mindset that everything died in the end, but this little--or should I say big, cat could've been a nice companion.

"Meh," I thought aloud. "You were too fat to keep up anyways."

Dark humor was my way to deal with things, so I told myself the poor thing would've had a heart attack and died on the spot if I hadn't helped him out. With a snarl, I marched back towards our tent, my bag banging against my knees as I crawled through the opening in our rocks we called a door.

As I approached Normani, I dropped the kitten on the floor, allowing it become covered in dust. "The little fucker was probably planning on eating me whole."

She chuckled lightly. "Girl, stop lying to yourself, you know he's to out of shape to even make it towards your foot. I could try cooking this in a stew for dinner?"

"I'm saving it," I offer, knowing my friend knew the circumstances we'd use it for. "Besides, the turkey will taste better."

We allow it to sit while munching on the berries we'd found in a patch earlier this week. Though not very filling, they gave us a little strength we were willing to accept. For the most part, we ate in silence, having nothing to discuss while being wrapped in our own thoughts.

Finally, Normani spoke up. "Y'know, maybe the interviewer will focus more on me than you this year."

I made a strange noise between a snort and a laugh. We both knew I was never spared from the endless questions no matter how many times she tried to interrupt.

"No, seriously." 

She hoped up, shaking her head back and forth before twisting her arms in unheard of positions, attempting to moonwalk but failing horribly, leaving her to jiggle around and skid across the dirt, a process that made caused us both to burst into laughter.

"I--I'm gonna teach you this," she managed to get out between breaths, humping the air. "This is gonna be you by the end of the day. This gonna be you Lauren," she reaffirmed, shaking her hips hopelessly from side to side.

By now, berry juice was seeping out my mouth and down my chin as I struggled for air, laughing so hard tears formed at my eyes. I wanted to come up with a witty reply on the spot, but in my current state, that could never happen. Tumbling to the ground, my body shook as I laughed harder and harder with each passing minute, forgetting about the dust that would collect on my clothes.

The sound of both of us truly laughing was hard to come by now, so this was like music to our ears. As we enjoyed ourselves and let loose for a while, we both hoped this moment in time would never end.

Normani pulled me to my feet with little effort, twirling me in her arm and dipping my head back. I threw back my arms, cheering with laughter and happiness as we moved to the beat of our own drum, knowing our giggles and chuckles could fill the void of emptiness.

Truly, my best friend practiced dancing every waking hour, but never before had she gotten so silly with it. She hastily gripped my arm, lifting my head back up. "I promised you, this is gonna be you."

For the next ten minutes or so, I mimicked her moves and we both tumbled over our feet, barely concentrating on the serious matters at hand, our bowl of berries tipping over, disposing of our breakfast for the week.

Out of tiredness, we both collapsed to the ground in a heap. "Gosh," I uttered blissfully. "You should show me how to dance more often."

"I'll consider it, if you finish the stew and collect more berries to replace the ones we ruined."

I rested my arm on her stomach, rolling my head around to face her, unamused. "I'll consider it, if you come with me to the patch."

We agreed, it was a deal. I make dinner for the next three nights and she comes with me during hunting. Our time spent together usually didn't last more than a day, two at the most, so knowing we'd have each others company for much longer than planned, we both smiled to ourselves.

"I miss you," she murmured into my ear, her eyelids heavy.

"So do I. Guess we don't depend on each other as much," I tried shrugging but failed, my shoulders staying in place as I chuckled. "Isn't your mom coming in next week?"

Normani nodded. "She sure is, wouldn't miss it for the world."

Before I knew it, her leg was wrapped around mine, encasing me in her intoxicating touch as I struggled free. "Normani Hamilton I am not about to fool around with you."

Harshly, she pulled away, sitting up and checking on the stew. I was left alone to stare at the sky, anger circulating through me. She didn't have the right to try and toy around with my feelings. I wasn't about to satisfy her perverted sex fantasies while we were suppose to be friends and nothing more. The happy moments like today should be cherished, not an opportunity for her to seduce me during my stage of vulnerability. 

"You know, you don't have to ruin every good moment with this!" I snapped, voicing my opinion on what she ideally wanted us to indulge in. "And you don't deserve to be all pissy about it. I don't want my first to be with my best friend my default."

"Oh really? I fucked up my whole life to be with your sorry ass and you can't even repay me?"

We bickered back and forth before she threatened to spill the soup, shutting me up right then. "You win this round but I'm not your sex slave. I need to find some clothes."

Rolling my eyes for good measure, I allowed her to see the frustration boiling off me as I clenched my fist and gritted my teeth. I didn't owe her anything, especially not sex. I was doing just fine on my own and recently when she visited, petty fights broke out, causing me to no longer wish I'd ended up with her. Sometimes I hoped someone else would come here with us and end my misery, so I could finally open up about my constant struggle with the figure replacing my mother.

Wordlessly, we were swept into our own worlds of preparation following the daunting hours to come.


	2. |2|

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the support! It means the world to me!

The interview was cancelled.

At least, that's what Normani had been informed. The moment I opened my eyes, a rush of water fell on my face.

"What the hell?!" I screamed out, shocked that she would actually waste our precious water on waking me up. "You can't do anything right on your own!"

"Other than keep up with the news." She laughed at me, a sneer on her lips as I realized the water tasted incredibly foul.

Confusion poured over me as I sniffed the air, lifting up a limp hand to examine the liquid drenching me from head to toe.

It was pee.

I shrieked out in disgust, jolting up from my sleeping bag and trying to shake my friends piss off me, utterly dumbfounded. "The interviews today...Oh my gosh the interviews in less than three hours!" I scream, violently shaking her amused body as I shoved her into the rocks.

I must've fallen asleep in my outfit sometime that evening, resulting in the only dress I owned being covered in a yellow liquid. I surely couldn't be seen with such a thing on. "You're insane, you know that?" It was silly, but I was so fed up tears pooled at my eyes over such a little thing that could easily be fixed. "Just because I'm not the little gay bitch you want me to be doesn't mean you have to make my life miserable."

"Sweetie, your life was doomed the moment you popped out the womb."

"My life was doomed the moment people like you decided I should be put in this silly simulation!" I leave out the fact that I had been one of those very people supporting the idea, trying instead to squeeze through the rocks. What had given me the illusion of a sunny day was really just a pouring rain, but I didn't mind. My outfit along with hope of looking somewhat presentable today were already ruined. "And now this stupid interviewer is gonna finally think I've lost my damn mind."

Normani followed me out, socks in her hand as she carefully cupped my cheeks and rubbed at the fluids. "Jesus," she muttered. "I apologize, alright? For what it's worth, I think you look stunning."

For a moment, we stayed there, me looking into her eyes as she practically melted to a puddle on the floor. I wasn't in lust as I stared at her, just angry. She leaned forward just as I shook her off of me, my gaze hardening. "That hurts coming from you seeing how low your standards are."

"My standards are telling me to eat you out," she probed, tucking a lock of wet hair behind my ear.

I snatched the sock from her hand, and after slapping her repeatedly with it, I tended to my own problems, releasing the sticky substance off me. "Satisfying your urges is the least of my worries."

"The interview was cancelled!" She blurted out suddenly. "The interviewer had a heart attack last week and they're currently searching for replacements! Today's our day just for us."

"You mean just for you to get an STD? You really wanna get down on my skinny sleeping bag?" I raised an eyebrow in questioning, successfully removing the final traces of pee from my face. "And there's still so many things to do for the interview, I don't have time for your problems."

"I'll have one less problem if you take me."

"No," I repeated, my tone sharp and final while marching back into our tent and stripped of all clothes, doing a great deal of begging to keep Normani outside during this action.

As I discarded the clothes in a corner of the room, my gaze met Normani's, peering through the crack of light and eyeing me hungrily.

I flipped her off, knowing that did the trick before carefully slipping into a tight mesh type of armor, along with some leggings covered in dirt. Since it was still cold outside, I placed the thin jacket Normani had brought with her over my shivering body, huddling towards the fire she'd already created.

With how fast things happened outside the simulation, I knew our interviewer could be on their way out here right this moment. The stew was remotely untouched, but I still grabbed the pot and hovered it over the fire to give it some more heat. My figure was too skinny, my face too enraged, but those tiny imperfections were out of my control. All I knew was that I'd immediately break out into a smile, no matter what, while he gave us news of my family.

"You ready in there?!" Normani shouted, her voice echoing throughout the tent.

"Yeah, I think I am," I replied, not nearly as loud.

I was already pouring the stew into our canisters, knowing that was the closet we had to a bowl, and the thin broth could easily be swallowed. I'd been eating out of the broken one no doubt, but as long as the interviewer was satisfied, the better.

If I respected the interviewer and answered his questions correctly, he'd give me much more details of my families current situation and how they were managing. I learned this the hard way after lashing out at one of them for withdrawing information on my mother's sickness. With the stunt I was about to pull, possibly tonight, I had no idea how the following events would play out.

"Relax. People will judge, sure, but we need the ratings. And pulling in viewers from different groups will be good," Normani reassured as if reading my thoughts, gently rubbing my shoulder.

I attempted a sheepish smile, playing it cool. "I'm doing great, but thanks for the support."

"Loose the act, Jauregui. I can read you like a goddamn book and you know it, so save this tough girl act and open up." She raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow in mischief, clearly having second thoughts on that final comment she'd made.

I shook my head in disbelief, astonished at how hard she tried to have me, yet never succeeded. She had determination, you had to give her that. But it was extremely annoying while I wanted nothing more than to be friends, not complicate things any further in our somewhat terminal relationship. "I'm just scared. Things could easily blow up in our faces."

"So? Things are boring, we need to spice them up anyways." She hastily pulled back the makeshift bowls off the fire, our food almost becoming burnt. "Realistically, how long do you think it'll take for the interviewer to arrive? Because these dance moves can't wait any longer to show the world what they've got."

I giggled, dipping my finger in the stew and sucking it. While performing this action, I made sure to avert my gaze towards the ground and stop the blush from creeping on my cheeks. I couldn't afford one of Normani's lame attempts at being smooth with me.

"And don't say you don't know because, quite frankly I barely know anyone, but you are the greatest at estimating! You always seem to know just when our food will run out. It's a talent, if you ask me."

"More of a nuisance. I don't want to be able to guess your sexual acts and still be a virgin," I joked, dodging her question, not wanting to admit the fact that I was clueless when it came to this matter.

Normani took a taste of the stew for herself, groaning at the taste. "I had a foodgasm. The interviewer will thinks it's crap but try being polite, meanwhile we're in food heaven."

This statement was a true as any other. They barely ever got through the night without gagging or puking up the meal we considered a treat. It was a harsh reality, how far our standards had plummeted, but it was reality, and there was no escaping it.

I nodded in agreement before shutting both our canisters closed, staring at the dead cat still occupying our floor. "Should we do something about him?"

"Like skin him alive?" Normani suggested, not waiting for an answer from me. "Maybe after the interview." She picked him up, adjusting her arms to get a good grip before shoving his poor body between two lodged rocks. "Interviewer will never notice this."

To be quite honest, Normani did amuse me. Just not sexually. We'd practiced the plan together for countless hours, but I thought we'd both been informed this was a stunt. Meaning nearly all of it was fake, aside from the nerves I was experiencing.

Dismissing this, I shoveled through my pack until stumbling upon some mint leaves and raspberries. The ripest berries were just out of my reach, taunting my hungry stomach, but we'd decided to save the best of our food for the interviewer. "You hungry?" I snapped, a little too harshly.

Normani nodded, her eyes following my breast. "I sure am. What's on the menu, Chef Jauregui? I was hoping a side of lube would come with the meal?"

"Mint and berries!" I yelled, my anger and jitters finally getting the best of me. "I can't do the simplest thing without you intervening and making it sexual! I have never, and will never be interested in you Normani Koredi! You're a whore, do you know that? And I mean it this time, you're a literal whore! The only reason I've helped you is because you're the only other person here!" The thoughts I'd kept locked up for months suddenly came pouring out at full force. I could barely comprehend the words I was saying before they flew out of my mouth, directed towards my best friend.

In my fury, I'd thrown her food across the dirt floor, the assortment of foods landing everywhere but bear her. I inhaled deeply, staring at my own meal. "I'm sorry, Normani. I just needed to get a few things off my chest and...And I do really think our relationship can go back to what it once was. Are you willing to step up and show me some respect for who I really am? That's all I'm asking."

Normani didn't bother to grab her food. "When we get back, not the slightest person will care to check you out. This is your one chance at finding true love and you turn me down just because I'm a female? That really hurts, and you know I’m always taking that stuff to heart."

"This has nothing to do with gender! I mean--"

"You mean what? Because I'm starting to believe this has everything to do with gender. If I came with a full package and side swept hair, you'd be the one clawing at me. But instead I'm a beautiful and graceful girl that you can't seem to appreciate."

I raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Seriously? Do you hear yourself right now? Normani, I don't care how you look, I just want to be friends and nothing more. I haven't got full control over my feelings, I can't just pick who I like and who I don't. Unfortunately, my hearts telling me you're not the right one."

Before I knew what was going on, dirt was being hurled towards me. Luckily I was trained enough to dodge the attacks-- rolling down and jumping up if I had to, but she still caught me off guard. I was only able to do so much before I had to fend for myself.

"Are you getting this on camera?!"

Normani and I both turned at the sound of a perky voice, shocked to see a petite Cuban standing in the entrance of our houses, a camera crew behind her.

I cleared my throat, jumping up to shake her hand. "Lauren Jauregui. Sorry you had to see that, my friend can be quite the tool sometimes," I said through gritted teeth, ignoring the daggers she shot my way. "So where's the interviewer?" I peered over her shoulder, trying to locate a middle aged man, notepad in tow, but couldn't seem to find anyone meeting the description.

"That would be me, Camila Cabello," she shot me a winning smile. "By any chance, have you got a real...house?"


End file.
